Compote
by Sarasusamiga
Summary: 100 word Furuba drabbles.
1. Ripples and Reflections

Fandom: Fruits Basket  
Disclaimer: Natsuki Takaya fecit Qualum Frugum.   
Title: Ripples and reflections  
Rating: K  
Category: Angstlet (ze ficlet of angst)  
Pairings: Shigure + Mayu; one-sided Mayu/Hatori.  
Summary: Jellyfish have feelings too.  
Spoilers: For Mayu's flashback in Vol. 10 of the manga.  
Author's Note: 100-word drabble with a goofy title. Ah well.

**Ripples and Reflections**

This could be the greatest lesson of Shigure's college years.

Her parents' bookstore. He's reading by the half-light through the shades. Mayu stares outside, book face-down in her lap.

A breeze brings Kana's laugh, Hatori's murmur back.

A brief flutter of eyelashes, a tiny swallow (Shigure has excellent peripheral vision). Eyes slide back to his page while his writer's mind jots observations.

Then all thoughts freeze. Mayu's fingers are on his sleeve.

Through rushing blood in his ears, a cold voice—his. "What?"

That tiny, enormous touch drops away. "Nothing."

His eyes sting, later. (Too much reading in poor light.)


	2. Lächeln

Title: Lächeln  
Fandom: Fruits Basket  
Rating: K  
Category: General  
Pairings: None in particular  
Summary: Momiji makes use of his memories. 100-word drabble.  
Spoilers: For Vol. 4 of the _Fruits Basket_ manga.  
Disclaimer: Natsuki Takaya created and owns _Fruits Basket_; this fanfic is merely a tribute to her work.

**Lächeln**

Smiles are seashells Momiji collects: curves and soft colors. He's good at telling real from fake, finding whole ones in a field of fragments.

Tohru's are brightest and best. And alongside them he finds the rare ones he adores--Hatori's, Yuki's, Kisa's.

Second to Tohru's his favorites are Kyo's: smiles that try hard to be frowns. At first, Kyo awarded them just to Tohru--but spying, Momiji added them to his hoard.

Now, facing an impersonal gaze, he gifts his mother with a sparkling grin.

"Good to see you, ma'am. I'll run along."

His hands clasp tight around remembered smiles.

* * *

Author's note: German word up there means "Smiles." Appropriate, no? 


	3. Bounce

Title: Bounce  
Fandom: Fruits Basket  
Rating: K  
Category: General  
Pairings: Kyou/Tohru  
Summary: Kyou reflects on his own trajectory. 100 word drabble.  
Spoilers: None to speak of.  
Disclaimer: Lucky Natsuki Takaya! Envious Sarasusamiga!

* * *

They went by like a series of flashes, the months before her, before Shigure's. Well, _Kyou_ was always moving—hunting that damned rat, countering Master's ever-swifter attacks, answering sneering classmates or Sohma relatives with a speeding fist. His time was limited; every day was a punch he tried to land on Fate.

Then Tohru snuck up from behind. From the moment he turned to look over his shoulder at her—colors draining from his vision as he transformed—everything slowed.

Because, terrifyingly, she looked back at him.

And a hard, bright-orange rubber ball rolled to a stop at her feet.


	4. Inventory

Title: Inventory  
Fandom: Fruits Basket  
Rating: K  
Category: General  
Pairings: Uo/Kureno  
Summary: Uo tracks the similarities. 100 word drabble.  
Spoilers: Assumes plot familiarity through vol. 9 of the Furuba manga.  
Disclaimer: It's all about Natsuki Takaya, folks.

* * *

Lately, Uo's been observing Prince Yuki's hands—long-fingered, fragile-seeming. (She still has an eye for weaknesses, even if she's no longer compelled to poke at them.)

Yuki has the lean grace, the fine hair, high cheekbones. Not, though, the calm humility; not the Tohru-like gaze (except sadder, older).

Yuki looks inquiringly; she just smirks. He smiles—cautiously—and faces forward.

Uo realizes what she's doing. Splintering two incidents into bits of memory, matching the bits up with "real life"—it makes the encounters feel ordinary. More likely to happen again.

Yuki's fingers bear no rings. Neither, she remembers, did Kureno's.


	5. Through the Mantilla

Title: Through the Mantilla  
Rating: K+  
Pairings: slight one-sided Hana-chan/Tohru  
Summary: Hanajima's studied carelessness. Diligently. 100 word drabble.  
Disclaimer: Hail, all hail Natsuki Takaya. This fic is merely a tribute.

**Through the Mantilla**

When it comes to her own feelings, Saki's an expert at carelessness. Megumi knows, but he knows everything, has always known.

She wishes she could love with reckless joy, like Arisa; or like Tohru-kun herself, who can no more refrain from caring than from breathing.

But though she can't love _like_ Tohru-kun, she can still love Tohru-kun—a deep current beneath mixed eddies of waves. What's more, she can gracefully pry all clinging emotions away before her friend notices.

Each evening Saki undoes her braids, shakes her hair into a cloud. Released, her wishes float between the strands and away.


	6. Opposite Reaction

**Note: **Spoilers for canonical exchange between Kyo and Yuki in or around Volume 11 of the Fruits Basket manga.

**Opposite Reaction**

_For every action, there is an equal and opposite re-action. _

--Isaac Newton, Third Law of Motion

Lately Yuki has _refused _ to battle. That above all is what frustrates Kyo.

Words have never been Kyo's weapon. He knows the language of knuckle and shoulder, rolling back on your feet when they knock you down.

These days, Yuki chooses words for weight and edge, fires them straight at Kyo. No way Kyo can evade, no wounding missiles _he_ can throw.

But now words come to him: _You've never known what it's like to be hated. _Kyo pants them out, checks Yuki's expression—

Rage, something else drive Kyo's fist through glass. He bolts away from Yuki's _look _of truth.


	7. Meeting Like This

**Meeting Like This**

The tiny store was _theirs_: too packed with clothes-racks to permit more than a couple of customers at a time. He and Rin would circle every stand, examine new arrivals: "Try this one." "Let me see--" Silence otherwise, except for buckles jingling against silver links, the shush of satin, the proprietor's gentle snore.

They'd dart soft comments between the hangers, over velvet display boxes crammed with rings, ankle-chains, earrings, armbands, chokers.

Once, Haru cracked a joke while Rin was browsing the next aisle.

Rounding the banked clothes, he found her laughing. He stood and stared, shocked into raw tenderness.


	8. Going Naked for a Sign

_Note:_ Title refers to a practice some seventeenth-century Quakers used as a way of witnessing to their faith.

**Going Naked for a Sign**

Winter of freshman year, Rin trod restless daily paths throughout the shopping district. She had no sense what she was after till she saw it on display: a glove-snug dress, black, square-necked and defiant.

In a flash, she'd entered the changing room, smoothed cloth over breast and thighs. She stretched her neck, tossed her hair, breathed _deep_ the first time ever. _This is--__**right.**_

Today, her wardrobe's starker still, a wordless manifesto. Every garment-- leather, velvet, stiffened silk-- cuts low across her back: bares the silver-brown that slashes spine and shoulder. It is the price--her proof--of having loved.


End file.
